Finale Challenge
by CyberMum
Summary: A response to a challenge to write a final J/C scene...


FINALE CHALLENGE

**FINALE CHALLENGE**

  
_February 2000. A challenge from monkee. Here's the scenario: You're sitting on your couch, just minding your own business (whatever that may be), and the phone rings. You answer it. It's Brannon Braga! Carefully, deliberately, you bite back all the scathing things you'd like to say to him, including the snide 'How's Jeri?' because, naturally, you're curious. What could he possibly want from you? He says, "So [insert your name here], we've read all of your fabulous fanfics on the internet and would like your help writing Voyager's final episode." Well, he rambles on and on, and you negotiate, and eventually a deal is hammered out. He's had a change of heart. He wants to put a short J/C scene in the final episode to reward the J/C ers for their patience and congeniality. And he wants you, [insert your name here], to write it. What would you write? What J/C scene would leave you happy when all is said and done? You'll have to keep it clean enough for television, of course, and it will have to be a relatively short scene, because the final episode is going to be packed full of stuff. Assume that Voyager gets home and that there's trouble for the Maquis, but Janeway stands by her crew and convinced Starfleet to drop all charges. Or don't assume that - but keep the scenario close to something you think TPTB might do. The idea is to have a collection of alternate J/C scenes for all of us to fall back on if, God forbid, TPTB decide to do nothing at all with J/C in the final episode._

  
**Finale Challenge  
by Cybermum**

  


The ballroom at Starfleet Command was filled beyond capacity with personnel, family, friends, and of course, Voyager's crew. This was the homecoming they had dreamed of throughout their long trek back across the Delta Quadrant. They had been debriefed, interviewed, medically tested, psychologically assessed and had all come through with flying colours. Harry Kim's comment that the past four weeks at home had probably been more stressful than dealing with some of the unknown anomalies and hostile aliens they had encountered in the Delta Quadrant had caused Chakotay to grin and nodded in agreement.

Chakotay's own interrogation had lasted three full days. Although the questions had been detailed and the sessions intense, in the end it had been easier than he had anticipated and Star Fleet had given him and the rest of Voyager's Maquis contingent full pardons. In fact, they had all received commendations and back pay. He knew that Kathryn had had a hand in that. She had been adamant from the moment she stepped off the ship onto DS9 that was what she expected. And, as Chakotay well knew, one didn't tangle with an adamant Kathryn Janeway.

Large parties were not events that he enjoyed, and after doing the required rounds, Chakotay had found himself a quiet corner on the mezzanine above the rotunda. He had no family members left - they had all perished during the Cardassian wars. And his Maquis friends were either dead or imprisoned. But he had learned long ago that to regret the past was a useless occupation. Instead he contemplated the future. He knew what he wanted.

And so he continued to observe as the party swirled on below him, a small smile appearing every once in a while as one or another little drama, or reunion or discussion took place. Each one so different, and yet the same. So far he had not been disturbed, although he was realistic enough to know that his peace could be shattered at any moment.

He'd caught glimpses of Kathryn throughout the evening as she circulated through the room, pausing to greet crewmembers and meet their families and loved ones, or chatting casually with this admiral or that ambassador. She was in her element - the golden girl of the Federation - the Captain who brought Voyager home. But he'd lost track of her eventually, and had finally escaped up the stairs to his present observation post.

It was only when she stepped quietly forward and leaned against the marble balustrade beside him that he realised she was there.

"I looked all over for you," she said. "But then you've always been able to slip away at will, haven't you?" 

"At least this time I didn't take a shuttle," he quipped.

She grinned. "No. You didn't. I had them all removed from the ship. I didn't want you losing any more of Star Fleet's property. I had a hard enough time convincing them that all those shuttlecraft were destroyed in the line of duty. And I had an even harder time convincing them not to dock your pay..."

He roared with laughter. "Kathryn, if we'd been in the Delta Quadrant for seventy more years my back pay wouldn't even begin to cover it!"

"Don't I know it!" she shot back.

They were both silent for a moment as they contemplated the scene below them. Was it his imagination or was she leaning towards him. "Shouldn't you be down there?" He asked. He was suddenly nervous, and deliberately continued to look out over the crowd.

There was another beat of silence. "Maybe," she said softly, "But I'd rather be here."

He turned to her then and realised that she looked as tense as he felt. He leaned forward and trailed his index finger softly down the side of her face.

"Kathryn..."

"I know..." she whispered. "I know." And her eyes suddenly shone with unshed tears.

She reached out and their hands met halfway, palms together, fingers entwined. Together they turned, hands still linked, and made their way slowly back down the stairs to rejoin the crowd.

  


  
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